"And that would be I."
"Detective Morris," you acknowledged, barely able to keep
the contempt out of your voice.
His black hair was slicked back with gel, and he wore a shiny leather
jacket that you thought made him look very pose-y indeed. Morris was
tall and well-built, with a rather handsome, dark face - but it was
mainly clouded by the permanent smirk he had on it. Clyde scowled, and
you could hear him thinking, 'Oh, great! It's Morris again, coming to
rob us of OUR investigation!'
You had met him while you were both trainee detectives at the Academy.
Morris certainly did NOT leave a very good first impression, having
tried to ask you out several times, but then resorting to taunting you
instead (when you refused). It was no biggie - nor news - to Clyde,
who had had to put up with Morris' spats since they were first paired
up for a project together in their first year.
"Detective Alexei and Callahan," Morris said, his voice
lilting up in amusement. "The dream team. What might you two be
doing here?"
"That is a question we should be asking you," Clyde
retorted. "Sherwood said that this was OUR case to do. Aren't you
supposed to be working on yours?"
"Ah," Morris replied smoothly. "But we have finished
that, haven't we? My team's polishing up our final report, and while
they are doing that, I shall be working on THIS one."
The infuriating brat! What do you do or say
next?
"And that would be I," a slimy voice said over your
shoulder. You whipped around, and looked into the face of Detective
Morris.
